SilentTalkie » Volume 2, Issue 07

What’s 10 in Transylvanian?

Karim Awad — Wed, 04 Apr 2007 14:00:59 +0000

10.

“ah, ah, ah, ah, ah…”

In loving memory of Sesame Street’s “The Count”. 1971-2007

Postcards From a Place You’ve Never Seen

Dave Duncan — Wed, 04 Apr 2007 14:00:58 +0000

She peeked around the doorway and clucked her tongue at what she saw in his bedroom. Clothes and books coated the hardwood floor, and his covers lay in a twisted heap on his bed (although his so-called ‘bed’ was simply a boxspring and mattress stacked on the floor). Two pizza boxes sat in the corner next to his desk which was buried under a mountain of jumbled papers, and she wouldn’t have been surprised to know that the boxes weren’t empty and were quite moldy.
More distressing, and immediately noticeable, were the scores of empty beer and whiskey bottles-the result of Finn’s newfound taste for boilermakers. He had become a poster boy for senseless self-destruction, and this room was his crowning glory—his badge of honour.
“How long has it been like this?” she asked, sweeping her hand over the room.
“The mess and food started after Kate went in for chemo..” Mark nudged an empty beer bottle with his toe. “… and this? It started around the time of her funeral. At first, he kept the bottles in his desk, but that didn’t last long.” Mark’s voice was weak. “It filled up pretty quickly.”
“My God.” she sighed under her breath. “That’s almost eight months. Does his family know? Has he been getting any treatment or counselling?”
“He doesn’t take any calls or visitors, and I think his family is waiting for him to get in touch with them. They’re really WASPy, so I’m pretty sure they don’t know.” Mark nudged the beer bottle with his toe again. “He calls this… ‘treatment’.”
They both stood staring into Finn’s room without looking at anything in particular until Mark turned to walk back down the hall. Jenn followed him, and then doubled back to close Finn’s door. She hoped that with his door tightly shut, his depression and self-destruction wouldn’t seep down the hall into Mark’s room.

Growing up, we all loved Crazy Uncle Phil. He was my dad’s younger brother and would come stay with us for holidays. He would tell outlandish stories, tell us dirty jokes and play dangerous games with us (games that our parents forbade). I was too young then to know that he lived in an institution and that calling him ‘crazy’ was as accurate as it was rude. Crazy Uncle Mark died when I was eleven. He had an adverse reaction to an experimental drug, fell into a coma and passed away.
Years later, my older brother and my dad were talking about something I never saw on those visits—something I was too young to see and was protected from. Apparently, Uncle Phil would unpredictably fly into violent rages—throwing punches, overturning furniture and screaming obscenities. My dad would try to hold him back, but a combination of drugs that induced over-eating and institutional lethargy meant that Uncle Phil was easily twice my dad’s size. When my brother Jeff was old enough, he’d jump in and he and my dad could hold Uncle Phil back until he calmed down.
In spite of the black eyes, bruised ribs and broken chairs, Uncle Phil was there for every holiday, and he never once hurt or yelled at one of us kids. My dad never spoke badly of him, showed frustration over having him there or showed any sign of regret. He loved having his brother in his home with his family, and when the holiday was over and Uncle Phil went back to his home, Dad would shuffle around the house in a funk for a few days.
In my whole life, I never saw my dad laugh so hard or have so much fun as when he used to thumbwrestle with my Uncle. I never saw my dad thumbwrestle with anyone else, but he could’ve gone pro. I can only assume that they used to do it as kids and just kept going, but they both loved it and wouldn’t let anyone else play. We’d all just sit there at the dinner table watching them battle after every meal.

The Life and Low Expectations of a Corporate Graphic Designer

Karim Awad — Wed, 04 Apr 2007 14:00:56 +0000

I recently got a new contract which is very like a real job. Scary, I know, but it was necessary and so far it’s been good. There are lots of pros and cons about working in a corporate setting. Every morning there are free bagels and I don’t have to make my own coffee. I’m also working on a pretty good Mac and the people in the office are cool. I won’t get into the cons as most people who have ever worked in an office know exactly what they are.

One really nice feature of being the only designer in a corporate setting, is that you are seen as “special”. People see you as having mysterious skills and powers which they could never possess. Coworkers are generally in awe over what a designer produces, if it’s good and on time. When you produce something which is well designed and meets the needs of the piece in a timely manner, you can be seen as a hero and saviour to the office place. Even when it’s not your best work, people can be impressed. Wow… what a feeling!

The tough times start when some people become a little jealous. Everyday, they mess about with spreadsheets, TPS forms and cover sheets while they see that artsy kid playing around with imagery, color swatches and fonts. Some see this as one coworker having a good time while others are forced to toil with numbers and charts. In the past, I’ve been cornered by a person who has plenty of comments about how things should look, which colours to use and why my font choices are wrong. I’m all for critique and suggestions but these people are really hard to deal with. Even if their ideas are good, it’s tough to take them as these people can not be encouraged.

Obviously, every one has their own skill set and that has to be admired. I am often in awe of plenty of other people who do things I can’t and believe me there are plenty of skills which I am lacking in. Sales and financial crap are often beyond me, so it’s amazing to me that people are really good at that. I’m never jealous of it, but impressed for sure. I couldn’t even imagine walking over to an accountant and telling them to reformat their columns or charts or spreadsheets or whatever other money crap they have to do. Um, I guess that’s not my place…or is it?

There are days when I miss my cat and being able to commute in twenty seconds, but getting praise for my work and fast response time is really nice. Even coming up with strategies to avoid the faux-designer can be fun. In an ideal world, I’ll be able to work at home sometimes and in the office as well. Both worlds are pretty great, but the combination of the two could be even better. Can you picture it? A steady paycheck with out having to find a tonne of contracts, but also not showering and working on what you want to work on for a few days? That’s living the dream…

Oh and you’re riding a unicorn through fire!

Whoa.. i just got goosebumps.

What time is it? It’s Spring Time!

SilentTalkie — Wed, 04 Apr 2007 14:00:46 +0000

Oh laddies and ladies!

This seventh issue comes to us with a batch of fog and humidity to boot! WEATHER!

For a couple days in a row the weather here has been nice, which means I can officially say “SUCK IT WINTER”. My tentacles are all tingly and I’m on the prowl. Get your mind out of the gutter, kids. The focus of this prowl happens to be lady squids, sheesh.

Well, since there is a serious lack of hot, available squidettes around here, maybe I’ll have to prowl for something else. The city always seems to awaken when the weather turns less sucky and that’s true about the art scene too. More shows seem accessible, more art seems to be hanging around and more book and cd stores seem fun to browse.

Spring cleaning, indeed! A worthy prowl after being holed up in a tiny apartment or slugging through a grey mass of goop which used to be snow.

So, while I look around for a potential mate, I’ll also keep my really huge eyes out for art. You should probably do the same thing and keep your hands off my potential wife… I know you think she’s fair game but she’s way to good for you and she deserves better.

Art and lady squids… what could be better on a spring day.

In closing, warm weather is great, art is blooming and keep your hands off my lady friend or I’ll beak your eyes out,

Tim ‘Squiddy’ Megateuthis

A new merger…

Phil — Wed, 04 Apr 2007 14:00:27 +0000

Reluctant To Find Me Stuck In The 90′s

Jared — Wed, 04 Apr 2007 14:00:17 +0000

In light of the Big Wreck article a couple weeks ago, it got me thinking about other 90′s songs that were quickly discarded. These bands are not necessarily one hit wonders, but nearly all of them have faded into obscurity, or at least these songs have. Once again, I wish that there were a way that I could share these sounds with you, without you having to go through iTunes or scouring the discount bin at your local used CD store.

1. Matthew Sweet – Sick of Myself: Why not start it off with a song that doesn’t end? The riff is three simple chords but it’s catchy.

2. Refreshments – Banditos: I love the story in the song. Who can say no to a Bonnie & Clyde-esque heist story?

3. Bran Van 3000 – Drinking In LA: First Canadian content, I’m disappointed that they never reveal what Todd’s favourite cheese was.

4. Odds – Someone Who’s Cool: It really was the suit that got me the gig, just waiting for the tear to get me the girl.

5. Rentals – Friends With P: I thought about using El Scorcho by Weezer (possibly the best song they ever recorded), but after their reappearance, I think everyone wants to forget about Weezer.

6. Mighty, Mighty Bosstones – The Impression That I Get: Third Wave Ska, like Icarus, tried to do too much too fast. Still a fun genre to witness in concert.

7. Age Of Electric – I Don’t Mind: Not as popular as Remote Control but lighter and poppier. You’ve got to love those “Whoo Hoo Hoo”‘s.

8. Butthole Surfers – Pepper: “Look at me I’m a surfer”

9. Kish – I Rhyme The World In 80 Days: One of the few memorable Canadian rap songs from the early 90′s that wasn’t from Maestro Fresh Wes. Thankfully, he didn’t try to make a Snow-like comback.

10. Fountains of Wayne – Radiation Vibe: I always liked this song. Fountains of Wayne could write a great pop hook. Too bad they’ll always be remembered as liking Stacy’s Mom.

Other songs that didn’t quite make the cut:

Spacehog – In The Meantime
Gob – Soda
Wide Mouth Mason – My Old Self
Better Than Ezra – Good
Watchmen – Zoom
Rancid – Time Bomb

The Worst Of The Worst

Jared — Wed, 04 Apr 2007 14:00:08 +0000

Someone recently pointed me to Rotten Tomatoes’ Worst 100 Films of all time. While I’ve seen more of those films than I care to mention and most of them were terrible, I think that I’ve seen many that have been worse. Yes, Ballistic: Ecks Vs. Sever was terrible but no where near the worst film ever made. I thought I’d take a moment to describe a couple films worse than that.

Note: I do not condone the watching of these films unless it’s done in a mocking fashion. Also, I will omit any films that I saw ripped apart by Mystery Science Theatre 3000. Manos: The Hands Of Fate and The Night Train To Mundo Fine are easily the worst films I’ve seen, but they have already been saluted as horrible by the aforementioned MST3K.

Seamless : Seems like the worst is a great place to start and this definitely qualifies. Of all the films on this list, it’s the only one that I didn’t make it all the way through. The only thing worse than the plot was the acting. Something about drugs, placebos, raves and a used clothing store, I think. Anyways, this was so bad, I couldn’t even laugh at it.

The Hustle : You can chalk this one up to false advertising. The cover of the film prominantly features to DJ’s known as Doctor Dre (not to be confused with Dr. Dre) and Ed Lover. I decided to rent this after their stellar performance in Who’s The Man? , which was actually pretty funny. Back to The Hustle, anyways, these two are barely in it. They make a brief cameo and, while funny, could not make up for the rest of the film, which could’ve been made by some high school students.

Black Friday : This really is the most interesting film of the bunch. The film was directed by a guy who had previously just done music videos and it was kind of shot like one. This led to a couple of interestingly shot scenes but that couldn’t make up for horrible diaglogue, acting, pacing, casting, editing and pretty much everything else. What sets this film apart is that you keep watching because you expect it to get better. Sadly, it never does.

Code Hunter : Signs that this film will be bad: 1) Coolio, 2) the guy from the Highlander TV show, 3) Vanessa Marcil in her pre-Las Vegas phase, 4) SNL alumnus Nora Dunn. This film was actually pretty watchable when compared to its predecessors on this list. I know that doesn’t say much but you can put up with the horrible acting and script because the premise was at least somewhat entertaining.